


We guide the waves to bring you home

by Darkhymns



Category: The Death Gate Cycle - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slash, Smut, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhymns/pseuds/Darkhymns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ongoing smut collection with various characters in the Death Gate Cycle. From short drabbles to longer stories of varying explicit content. Will mostly contain Haplo/Alfred, but also other pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Balance Out Again

**Author's Note:**

> Because I didn't want to clog up this section more than I already do! (And that is a lot.)
> 
> I figured this would be more convenient to post some short stories of this nature because I keep writing these anyway. From PWP's, to actual plot content mixed in. Mostly explicit, though there may be some that aren't. The future is exciting like that. Tags will be added when new things come up. EXCITING.
> 
> First story is just going to dive right in, so hope someone enjoys! /lame thumbs up
> 
> \--  
> Pairing: Haplo/Alfred
> 
> After spending too much time with his precious books, Haplo decides to make Alfred take a "break." But events, as usual with the Sartan, don't go as planned.

For Haplo, instinct was more than second-nature. It was a treasured counsel for what course of action he should take, on the best way to reap the most benefits. A valuable asset for a retired emissary of the deceased Xar, an important concern for his enemies.

And it was instinct that told him to take Alfred away from his books (piles of it on his writing desk, with notes etched onto every margin), for the Sartan was overworking himself as usual. Few times for food, even fewer for sleep, and Haplo could just slightly admit that he was annoyed that Alfred was paying for more attention to his tomes than to his friends.

"You need a break," he had told him one night, bluntly. Alfred had started, nearly dropping the book in his hands.

"Oh, just let me finish outlining this chapter. It shouldn't take more than three hours."

This was where instinct helped him with his decision.

Both Sartan and Patryn were no strangers to each other, whether it had to do with shared memories, or something more physical. Souls shared were hard to keep apart, and connections sometimes needed to be formed, as Haplo realized a few months ago, returning from a Run, the aches and fear from the excursion driving them both behind closed doors.

And because of that, it didn't take much for him to convince Alfred. A quick kiss, a small tug toward the floor free of papers and bindings, and then the Sartan couldn't voice too many protests. (Although he tried).

Right now, Haplo knew that Alfred would be weak against this in particular, and that if he slid his tongue over the head just so, that those excuses the Sartan had been voicing ("But I need to put the books back," or "I didn't mark the pages,") would start to crumble away. He could already feel him shift beneath him, could hear the soft moans echoing around him. Clearly they had not done this often enough.

Haplo sucked on the cock hard, engulfing as much as he could, his tongue moving in deliberate slow motions. The taste of salt moved down his throat, the thought of it not as strange or foreign as he might have once expected. They hadn't removed their clothes, only having Alfred's hardness exposed, just as Haplo had decided.

Alfred's legs shook slightly as he sat against the wall. A hand curled in his hair, unsure whether to pull him off or push him down. But Haplo was the one in control, and so didn't worry over it.

"Y-you really don't-" Alfred tried to say, but another swipe of the tongue, licking away the pre-cum effortlessly, and he arched his back. "Haplo, I can't…"

 _Already?_  Haplo thought. It had barely been ten minutes.

But maybe that was because he knew just where to go, what to do. Memories hadn't been the only thing shared between them. There were sensations, thoughts, fears, and needs. Haplo knew Alfred's just as well as his own, and that knowledge could extend to any physical aspects. A touch here was enough to make the other shake, a particular kiss could be much more enticing than usual. Alfred had to have known it too, for now his body was stretching, his head turned away from the heat taking over from below.

Alfred came silently, just barely able to restrain a groan as his hips moved upward. Haplo had moved back slightly, careful to keep the cum away from his eyes. His mouth was still over the head, allowing white to splatter against his tongue. When Alfred was done, evidenced by his heavy breathing, Haplo gave his cock another long lick that made the Sartan flinch.

Alfred opened his eyes then. Haplo could tell that the other couldn't believe what he was seeing. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to-"

"Let me suck you off?" Haplo said quietly, wiping away the mess from his face. He grinned. "That was my choice, Sartan."

"Oh…" He lowered his head a little, at the hands placed on both sides of his legs, the Patryn still hovering over him. "Still… I didn't mean to be…done… so fast. I wasn't really prepared for it."

"But you are now, aren't you?" With that statement, Haplo took another lick at his cock, then placed his lips over the head. Alfred shuddered, gasping at the touch.

"N- not right now," he said tiredly, gently pushing Haplo away by the shoulder. "Besides, I don't want to be so selfish to not let you-" He stopped, his face turning red.

Haplo barely suppressed a sigh. "Alfred, with what has already happened between us, you have no more reason to be embarrassed  _now."_

"I know." His eyes shifted, as if searching for the words that were currently evading him. "I was just thinking that…since you were doing this for me…" He hunched in on himself, his meek nature overtaking him.

Haplo blinked. When he realized, he did all he could to keep himself from laughing. "Are you saying you want to return the favor?" He leaned forward, just an inch away from Alfred's mouth.

He expected the Sartan to respond with a stutter, to look away in guilt. But even Alfred, with their souls entwined, could surprise him. So he was taken aback when Alfred decided to take the initiative and kiss Haplo instead of waiting for the Patryn. A tongue was already slipping through his mouth, sliding against his own. Both moaned softly, and there was still some of Alfred's taste on the Patryn's tongue, one that the Sartan was apparently having no trouble sharing with him.

"I… suppose I could," Alfred said, his voice even and calm. It was a rare tone that he was speaking in, sounding actually somewhat confident. His words sent a shiver through Haplo, the feeling heightened when the Sartan kissed him again.  _At least he's learning,_  he thought, for Alfred's once fragile self-esteem now actually gaining some substance, benefited the both of them in many ways.

Haplo shifted his body to be more comfortable, still keeping their mouths locked. He could barely utter a word with a tongue filling him. Alfred could be good when he wanted to, and that included touches of his own, such as his hand that pressed against Haplo's clothed hardness. The palm grinded against him, made him anticipate, but damn Alfred was taking his time.

He had to move back to breathe, watching as the Sartan started to unbutton his pants, slipping his erection into view. He gripped it tightly, the bare hand in stark contrast to the cock decorated with curled runes.

Haplo arched his body just slightly, breaking the kiss, the subtle rhythm of Alfred's hand starting up and building heat. Alfred had always had a talent with his hands, his fingers resting against pleasant nerves. They were hands that had carried him through fire, that had connected the circle between them, that could ignite pleasurable trails across his body. The Sartan had a multitude of talents.

It took a long time before he finally felt the tongue just brushing up against the side of his cock. He gasped, waited for a mouth to follow, his knees aching from kneeling on the hard floor for so long. But he later opened his eyes when nothing of the sort came.

Alfred was staring at him, thoughtful. "I think I want something different."

Haplo was instantly lost. "You're gonna have to be more specific."

"I mean-" Alfred cut himself off, his embarrassment catching up to him again. "I- I'm not sure how to explain."

Haplo considered a moment, tried out a suggestion. "You could show me."

Alfred blinked, looking ready to crawl under a rock. But before Haplo could reprimand him (he would  _not_  have him fainting during this, of all things) Alfred gripped him around his waist, bringing him forward and raising him up.

"What are you-" Haplo nearly stumbled headfirst into the wall. His knees were now on both sides of Alfred's head, his body bent forward in an awkward position. It wasn't until Alfred took in his cock entirely that he started to realize what was happening.

The Sartan really was full of surprises.

"Coren…" Haplo whispered, feeling the man's tongue eagerly dress the sides of his cock, gliding over the tip. Hands, slender but strong, moved him up and down, starting off the rhythm that Haplo soon took over.

With his forehead pressed against the wall, and his hips moving systematically, the Patryn started to lose all sense. He drowned all too gladly in the warmth. There was only that vague idea of fucking Alfred's mouth, of feeling lips travel across the length of his cock, over and over again. His tongue was so warm, and he could just barely detect a rumble coming from Alfred's throat, releasing a small moan of his own.

It had been Alfred that time after the Run. The Squatters had been a small group, but the Labyrinth didn't like losing its inhabitants to the Serpent Mage and its keeper. Wyverns grew in number from the skies, wolfen packs appeared out of nothing. Haplo had been close to death numerous times, a fang diverted from his face with one of the dragon's claws, his body rescued as he climbed onto the creature's back. They had returned to the Nexus bone-weary but satisfied, the adrenaline still running high.

Alfred had kissed him suddenly, his hands still retaining that strength, sure in their decision, sure that Haplo could accept it. It had been that moment that allowed Haplo to let them continue this way, the sensation of being in more than one place, of residing in two different past homes no longer as confusing. It had felt right then, helped him validate these emotions, for if Alfred could do this, then so could he.

The slick, hot sounds were too much. Alfred's  _mouth_ was too much. It knew where to go to, just how deep he could take him. Steady and precise and completely knowing. Haplo lasted less than the Sartan, and then he felt the waves of his climax shatter his body, bringing his hips down to fully meet in the other's mouth and let go.

He slid out, collapsed on Alfred's chest.

"Was that…alright?" the Sartan asked, slightly worried.

Haplo moved up to him, kissing him before Alfred could turn away to clean up. "You should know."


	2. Across the Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Haplo/Alfred
> 
> Themes: Slightly dub-con (sorry), less explicit. But still a strange way to stave away the chill.
> 
> During Dragon Wing. On their way to the High Realms, Haplo finds out Alfred's heritage sooner than expected.

In the dragonship, it was cold.

Both the prisoners and their jailers suffered in equal measure. The elves, knowing that the high altitude was now implementing a nice film of ice over their vessel, stayed in the holds with the strange group. Such was the price for their journey toward the legendary High Realms. All the humans, the lone dwarf, and dog in their locked cabin, stayed huddled against the mage pot set up in the middle of the room for warmth. They were lucky enough to have several, if patchy blankets to help. Even the elven crew could afford a few sympathies. A dead body was only worth extra weight.

And throughout all of this, Alfred felt exceedingly guilty.

The cold didn't affect him much. A small hum, barely heard over the snapping of the ship's cables or the elves' shouted commands, was enough to spark the magic, providing him heat. He wished he could do the same for the rest of the mensch here. Poor Limbeck kept sneezing, sometimes looking deathly pale, though he figured he had certain help to see him through the journey. Even Bane, when he could conveniently forget the child's past actions, or looked past the feather he held, would curl up into a ball to maintain some semblance of warmth. Hugh showed no such weakness, as he rarely did, but he was not enjoying the trip either, with Alfred sometimes catching a little shiver at certain moments.

The only ones he knew that could handle the chill was the man with the bandaged hands, along with his dog.

The trip had lasted for almost a week, and Alfred wanted nothing more than to leave.

 _What am I supposed to do?_  He would think to himself, digging into his misery with disturbing skill.  _How can I fight any of this?_

The Patryn hid his marks well, scarf and bandages covering the runes on his skin. But still Alfred had seen through them, finding the designs during the man's sleep. Ever since then, his mind had been turning itself around in circles, eating itself away to find any sort of solution to this. But there was none, of course there was none.

It was a miracle Haplo hadn't found out about him.

He had been apprehensive about even doing this little spell, for what if Haplo could sense it, no matter how miniscule it was? But it was certainly that, and Alfred could choose to keep his voice low, as long as he was clear across the other side of the room, for Haplo kept himself away from the group for the most part, draped in a blanket by the wall. That and there were other people around to divert the attention, a barrier that Alfred was grateful for.

Even in the enclosed areas and dismal conditions, he was safe from Haplo's observations. Certainly, he found nothing interesting in a clumsy chamberlain, and hopefully never would. There was nothing new that should've made Haplo thought otherwise once they arrived at the Firmament, the floating, bright ice floes clearly seen through the porthole.

"My father will be here," Bane had announced just before, clutching the feather in his hands. He had been unusually quiet for some time; a small blessing for those on board. "He's coming for me!"

Hugh had grunted. "Will he be floating down to us on feather wings then?"

Suddenly there were shouts; elven officers shouting in their language, feet stamping through the hallways. For a moment, Alfred wondered if they had been struck by one of the many ice chunks that hovered before them as an impenetrable wall. Despite the fact that the ship had not listed or moved in any way to suggest such an accident, Alfred soon convinced him of this, almost morbidly glad that any decisions he would have to make would be out of his hands, until the elf captain barged in.

"You," he pointed toward Hugh, his voice steady, his human bearing a thick accent. "Come with me."

The Hand, biting onto his pipe, stood up. "What for?"

"You do not ask questions of me," replied the elf. Hugh shrugged- that was simply the way with prisoners and their captors.

"Is it him?" said Bane, his voice high-pitched from excitement. "Is it my father? I need to see him!" He then made a dash toward the doorway, slipping past the elf.

"Hey! Brat!" The elf made a grab and missed completely. "Damn it!"

Remembering his duties as a chamberlain, Alfred made an attempt to get up. "Wait-"

"I don't mean to intrude, but…" Limbeck said, much more healthy than before. Color was back in his cheeks, and he didn't stutter as much from the cold. "Would it be at all possible to see more of the work being done on this dragonship, Mister Hugh? That is, if I could join you?" He steadied his glasses as he spoke. He had gone over his shock of ascending into the heavens, to be visiting a place said to only be inhabited by the gods. His age-old curiosity had won him over, though perhaps blinding him to the danger of their surroundings.

The elf captain, trying to shout at another crew member to track down the running child, turned to glare. "This is not a cruise-"

Hugh, already through the door, gave his own answer. "Like I care."

"Oh, good!" The dwarf had as well made a dash for the exit, making the elf trip over himself.

"Stop! Althar, come and lock this door!"

That was when Alfred realized then that everyone was leaving him- with Haplo.

"B- but I need to-" he stuttered out, only to fall over some coiled rope on the ground. He landed on his knees, and heard the door slam itself shut.

The silence stretched, and he was too afraid to move.

"Are you hurt, Alfred?"

Jumping out of his blankets, Alfred sat himself up, scrambling to the far side of the wall. "I'm… I'm alright. Thank you."

Haplo looked at him -a tad longer than most people would- then leaned back, shutting his eyes.

While the room wasn't tiny, it was not the largest one the ship had to offer. If Alfred had wanted to (and why would he  _ever_  want to?!) he could have made his way to Haplo's side in only seven steps. Harnesses and old, worn cables littered the ground, along with their party's baggage, as well as several of Limbeck's loose papers that he had been writing on. Even with the two men and the dog, it looked like a crowded room.

Except to Alfred.

He stopped using his magic completely just then. The chill settled inside his bones, but it was better than having Haplo find out who he really was. He would let ice form on his head before he could betray himself.

He wrapped his arms around his body, and promptly went back to being miserable.

"There are blankets, you know."

There were several, actually. Including his own. But he would have to make an effort to reach them. Haplo would be watching him, and the idea of the man seeing his every move, searching for a moment, a slip-

"I'm fine."

Haplo himself was covered, draped in two blankets like the rest had been. He didn't need it. Of course he didn't. The runes on his skin would provide him with the correct temperature. Though Alfred couldn't help but wonder- he had only read a bit of how Patryn magic worked, which was similar to his own. Did the runes shine when he would evoke his spells, even for the smallest ones? If he tried hard enough, would he be able to see the glow through those bandages?

"You're staring."

"I'm…" Alfred tried to hunch in on himself even further. His legs seemed to have other ideas, shifting around with no clear goal in mind. "I'm sorry. It's just… I'm a little tired."

"It would be best not to sleep right now," Haplo advised, stroking the dog's head absently. "Not with the elves having half our group."

He couldn't even remember the last time he really slept. "Yes, I know…"

More silence. He looked at the floorboards, trying to ignore Haplo's eyes boring into him. Maybe he should comment on the stare too, except his courage instantly withered at the thought.

"You're an odd one."

It was bait, meant to gauge his reaction, to determine his character. Alfred, knowing this, fell right into it. "I'm only here for his Highness."

"If what I heard of the kid is true, then he's not exactly royalty, is he?"

Only a few in Volkaran knew the truth of the changeling, and Bane had certainly made no secret of his heritage during his time in the ship. It was best for him to say nothing more.

But instead he went with, "No, he's not."

"So if he's not the heir, why are you even here?"

Honestly? Alfred had never asked that question himself- he hadn't even dared.

"I am supposed to protect him."

"I think you're lying."

Alfred snapped his head up, trying all he could to keep the terror from his face, and failing remarkably. "I'm not-"

"You are."

Haplo sat up straighter now, brushing aside the blankets from his shoulders. The porthole to the side was frosted over with ice, but Haplo made no indication that he could feel any of the cold.

"It is difficult to figure you out Alfred, and I would like to know why."

"I don't… see how that is any of your concern." He was not entirely sure where those words came from, a bit aghast at their temerity. "Please, I would rather not talk right now."

At this, Haplo smiled- a small one, thoughtful, with very little warmth in it. "Are you sure? This is just simple conversation."

Trying his best, Alfred stared at the dog instead of the man, drawn into the animal's brown eyes. A strange creature, always pleased with everyone around it. He tried to recall if Patryns were known for keeping pets- all the old texts suggested they had thought such companions were a sign of weakness, a frivolous thing to be wasting their efforts on.

"It just… it doesn't seem to be the best time-"

"It's the opposite, actually. What other time will we ever have like this?"

Alfred couldn't understand what Haplo meant at first. After all, they were in a ship that was flying much too closely to disaster, with mensch surrounding them both. But then he realized that this was perhaps the first time he and Haplo had ever conversed with each other alone, with no other person as a witness.

"So why are you here, Alfred?"

The tone was even, unassuming- calculating. This was not a man he wanted to be alone with.

"I don't know," he said in all honesty.

"An exile of the kingdom should at least have some idea."

Of course Haplo had to remind him of the barl price on his head. It only served the depress Alfred further. "It was not like I planned for any of this."

Haplo shrugged, once again petting the dog, who responded to his master's gesture with a wag of its tail. "If you can find no reason, then why don't you just leave?"

Now Alfred was getting confused. "But… how can I with all these guards?"

"You've had plenty of opportunities. Back in Suthnas, for instance."

"But I am a wanted man. I would've only just been captured."

"Which you didn't know anything about at the time."

"Even so… I certainly can't now."

Haplo looked straight at him, no longer so unassuming or casual. His voice grew sharp, his bandaged hand laying free by his side, tightened.

"Except you always could."

Alfred could barely gather his thoughts through all the screaming in his head.

It was foolish of him to think the man wouldn't have known! What else should he have expected from the ancient enemy? The Patryn didn't move from his spot, but he could feel the anger emanating from him, from those covered hands. Yes, if he stared at them long enough, he could detect the faint red glow through the folds, coursing with power and promise. To have any chance of survival, he would have to open his mouth- he would have to sing. For a moment, he was resolved that that was what he would do, already etching out the melody that would carry him safely away from this ship, from this sky, from everything.

He woke up to Haplo kneeling above him.

Alfred yelped. "I-!"

"Enough with these tricks." Haplo continued his speech evenly, now speaking his native Patryn tongue. Shadows and fire moved through his words. A hand reached down, grabbing the so-called chamberlain by the collar.

"It's not…" he choked out. "I can't control it."

Haplo raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.  _"This_ is from whom my people have been imprisoned by- cowards plagued by fainting spells."

 _No. I was the only coward. If I was brave, I would've died along with them._  But Alfred said nothing.

Haplo pulled him up, shoving him against the wall. Alfred winced. The back of his head ached.

"Where are the rest of you?"

"There… aren't…"

"Stop lying."

"I'm not!" Alfred pleaded. He even went so far as to place his hands on the bandaged one holding him up. He could feel the heat through the cloth, threatening to burn him. "I swear to you."

The answer did nothing to please Haplo- in fact, it only served to make him angrier. He clenched his fist around the collar. "I doubt that. I find it hard to believe you found me out without any help."

Alfred could hear footsteps just outside the door. He thought wildly about shouting for them- but he figured he wouldn't live long enough get the words out of his mouth. Fingers pressed against his neck, sharp in their hold, like daggers.

Still, if just one of them would come in…

"Now answer me; where are the rest of you hiding?"

There was the brief moment of remembering, of him and Jarre standing in that much too quiet chamber. "There is only me. Only…"

Haplo blinked, not understanding what he had just seen. Alfred did all he could to keep his mind shut then. He had slipped into Sartan speech, something he so rarely used during his time as a useless human servant in court.

He shivered- the dragonship had gotten even colder.

"Then you'll have to do then."

Haplo's voice had gone lower, his face bent near Alfred's. The Sartan tried to back away, only to be stopped by the wall. "What do you mean?"

"My lord will want to question you, if you really are the only one."

Trying to protest, Alfred's eyes wandered to the side, suddenly realizing that something was missing. "Where's your dog?"

Haplo frowned. "Where it needs to be."

Another hand gripped his shoulder, and he shivered again. It was too cold, but his magic had never been more terrifying to use than right now. "Please-"

"Stop shaking."

"I… can't."

Haplo's eyes changed then, only a little bit. But it wasn't as hard as before; it surrounded him instead of piercing him through. It strangely reminded Alfred of the dog.

"If it's the cold, then just do your spell." The hands tightened.

"Please let go," Alfred begged. He felt the familiar dark waves, wanting to bring him back into ignorant sleep.

"Why won't you just do it?"

Alfred couldn't understand. He had never understood anything much. "You're… too close, I need… space."

In response, Haplo leaned in even closer, pressing their foreheads together. His voice was low, calm. "Back home, we had to chant while running to fight against the wyverns. We could only whisper the spells during the night in case a tiger-man heard us. We lived in caves and ditches and had to recite everything we knew with the earth pressed against our faces."

He held Alfred's head against the wall. "This is all the space you need."

Sharp images penetrated his skull, making him want to weep. The blame hurled against him was searing pain that he did not try to fight against.

And he couldn't stop shivering. It was  _so cold._

"Sartan," Haplo spoke, saying the title in complete loathing. "Having you freeze to death is not in my plans."

One hand pressed against his side, the other that had been twisting his collar moved over to his left shoulder. Alfred's eyes widened, unsure what was happening.

"There are several ways I can warm you," he said. The scarf on his neck shifted, revealing curling, blazing lines. "Pick one."

Alfred shook his head.

It was the wrong answer. Haplo's smile was frightening. "Then I will."

Even with the footsteps sounding closer, with a mensch speaking in his elven tongue right down the hall, no one bothered to go in. And Alfred couldn't call out if he wanted to, because his mouth was occupied, swallowed away by Haplo's own.

The kiss burned him.

Haplo was a man who was in control of everything- twisting situations to his need, his magic handled with skill and ease. Alfred knew he was nothing like that. How long had he let himself be pushed and pulled along by the mensch, only able to breathe out the runes with his familiar dead? It was only expected that Haplo could overcome him so easily.

But Alfred fought back. Or at least, he tried to.

His legs reflexively kicked out, making Haplo lose his balance. His hand pushed at a chest. There was a brief separation, and the chill intensified. Would they ever move from this place in the sky?

Exasperated, Haplo took both Alfred's hands and pinned them against the floor. He leaned over Alfred's legs, keeping him down.

"If you're going to fight me,  _then actually fight me."_

Amazingly, Alfred could only think of one thing to say. "I'm sorry."

Haplo stared, unbelieving, unsure. Just for a moment before he shoved the Sartan back.

"I don't need your excuses."

"But I-"

"And I don't  _want_ them."

Alfred shut his mouth, unable to turn away. All he saw was the Patryn over him, firm in his hold.

"When we go back to my lord, you can make all the apologies you want- however useless they are. He'll be sure to repay you for your thoughts."

It was everything that Alfred had been afraid of, a horrible nightmare that had been keeping him up all those recent nights. He shut his eyes, too terrified to wish for anything different.

"Will we… are you taking me now?"

Haplo said nothing- the air as tense as it was freezing.

"Is this your way of surrendering, Sartan?"

Alfred shook his head, confused as was the norm. "I… suppose…"

Haplo grimaced, tightening his grip. Alfred felt his arms begin to ache. "No, you are not what I expected to find."

He pictured clearly his old, long gone friends, tall in their robes, bringing forth creation with their songs. All of them resplendent and confident- each and every one would have raised their voice in pitch to fight against the possibility of capture, creating numerous ones of their own. But not him- he could scarcely breathe.

"I was never…" he started to say, hesitant, unsure as to why. "I was never…"

He had slipped again- images that he had kept to himself for so long revealed through by the old language. Though they were incomprehensible, blurred from the years, he saw that Haplo could see them all the same.

The Patryn bent down, his face once again different. And his eyes. "Are you still cold?"

"Um…" Alfred, thrown off by the question, could only answer with truth. "Yes?" And then he couldn't say anything more.

Perhaps this was some form of Patryn attack meant to confuse the opponent. Certainly that could be the only reason why Haplo was attempting this again. The first time hadn't worked because Alfred had reacted, pushing away from the man's mouth. A second longer and he was sure that Haplo would have whispered a word of magic to burn Alfred away, to draw on the possibility to draw out all the air in his lungs and stop his heart.

The frightening realization did nothing to make Alfred react. He stayed still, feeling lips move over his, a tongue sliding against teeth. All he did was make a sound that fell through the hot darkness, unheard.

He noted that the kiss didn't burn this time. His blood warmed, and the thought of ice left his head. None of this made sense.

"W- wait a moment," he tried, just barely succeeding in turning his head away. "I don't fully understand, if you could just-"

"You're in no position, Sartan," Haplo said, his hand moving down Alfred's side, "to be making requests."

A hand that could have torn the ship's boards apart, that could have trailed burning lines of magic on him, pressed between his thighs. He jumped at the unexpected touch, attempting to sit up. Haplo kissed him again, keeping his grip.

Whatever defenses he had were flimsy, only put up there with haste and desperation. Haplo's kiss was full and deep. Alfred felt himself move forward against him- just enough to fit their lips well, to know the taste and pinpoint it as the Patryn's own.

He was still so very terrified.

"Is this warm enough for you?" Haplo said once he let go of him. He breathed out the question against Alfred's mouth, his hands remaining where they were in their possessiveness.

 _Yes,_ Alfred thought.  _Completely. Fully_. "No."

Haplo smirked. "Then we should work on that."

Alfred could barely recall where he was anymore. It couldn't have been the dragonship. Ice decorated its hull, and the people onboard wore three layers to fend off the chill. Right now the air felt humid almost, the heat suffocating, making him gasp for air. His body shifted, hips moving against the hand designed with those runes that had once made his head spiral in sickening fear.

Fingers left his wrist, sliding underneath his shirt, pressing the fabric of their wrapped linen against his skin. With both free hands, Alfred tentatively placed them against Haplo's shoulders, connecting the warmth, grasping for it as their kisses escalated much more than they should ever have. The sensation was familiar, inviting, and the taste was recognizable even though he knew there was no way that should be so.  _I don't understand at all,_  he thought. But still there was the thrill of songs and patterns, something that he could see in the sounds the Patryn made -moaning? Was Haplo moaning?- reminding him of the dark tunnels. It has been years though, years since he has experienced the afterimage of incantations, of those created by another. Intense, powerful as the tongue sliding against his own, the hand grinding him and making him gasp.

The voices suddenly grew louder by the door.

The hands and mouth left, setting him adrift back in the cold. He gasped, his own hands clutching at nothing. He felt more than saw the blanket hurled against him. He was not sure what made him think to cover up his legs, which he did so right away.

The door opened. An elf, a sword sheathed at his side, stood in the hall. "The captain wants you both out here."

Alfred, still dazed, looked to find Haplo standing away from him, apparently intent on fixing up the bandages on his hands. There was no flush on his face, no small motion of betrayal. "Are the others still alive?"

"They won't be if you take your time." The elf turned to the chamberlain. "You too." A pause. "What is wrong with you?"

Alfred kept his legs under the blanket, not daring to move an inch. "I… uh…"

"If you've forgotten, the temperature isn't doing great for many of us," Haplo said.

The elf frowned at the remark, then turned his head when another elven voice shouted out- apparently for him. He turned back to the two one more time. "You go to the cabin to meet with Bothar'el. Do not make him wait." He left quickly.

It was an occurrence Alfred had been waiting for the entire time. But now that he was free, he didn't know what to do with himself. He certainly couldn't be standing up right now! Not after…

"You should hurry," he heard Haplo say before the Patryn made his way to the open door.

"What just…" Alfred whispered. He looked straight at Haplo, at the man's calm demeanor, at the hands in their disguise. "…Happened?"

And then Haplo smiled- a quiet smile, amused. Promising.

"My lord never said I couldn't indulge," he said, and then walked off, whistling for the dog.


	3. Of Hymns Inaudible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Alfred/Orla, with major mentions of Orla/Samah and a small reference to Alfred/Lya
> 
> Themes: Explicit, mentions of infidelity, and a bit somber because I love Orla so much but I always get so sad. D:
> 
> After Serpent Mage. They were exiles, cast away from their own, with nothing left to them but time and each other.

_When it came to their lovemaking, Samah had been dutiful as any husband would be. He would grasp Orla tightly in his arms, never hurting her too much on the chosen night of, identical to the requirements of their first consummation. She could never recall much after, nothing but even rhythms and a harsh breathing in her ear. There would even be the strange sense of lasting too long, enough so that her hips ached by the end, with only adequate warmth to dull it away._

_It was certainly not at all like the hands presently on her waist, hot against her skin, encompassing her in full. "Orla, are you alright?"_

_She hugged Alfred's neck, pressing against him. She had little breath to speak._

* * *

The Vortex offered what they needed to sustain themselves, that and solitude in bulk. If she had been here by herself, the stark white would have blinded her, the silence would have robbed her of her hearing. The Sartan were rarely separated from one another, and she could so easily imagine herself wasting away by the end.

It was a reflexive action of her to keep Alfred near, despite the vast space. There were books, as well as food, but she did enjoy her time together with him, especially when they would just sit against the wall, hands near each other. The Vortex would have easily provided them chairs, for Sartan rarely kneeled on the hard ground, but she didn't see any purpose in that. At the very least, the marble was smooth.

"The gate only swings one way," she had told him. Escape was not in the range of their possibilities. At least, a safe escape. "Samah made sure of that."

Alfred had nodded, remembering. "Perhaps if we ventured outside…things could have changed."

Orla appreciated his lie. He had even become more adept at hiding away the images behind his words. But she didn't have to see the torn bodies on the Labyrinth's floor to know.

She made sure to ground hope away- she would not give way to fancies that her husband would, at last, see the mistakes he had made. Nothing there but short time and repetition. Her life had always been very repetitive in that aspect.

She wanted none of that. "Tell me about Arianus," she had asked him.

"Arianus?" Alfred repeated, nervous. "What about exactly?"

"Anything. Everything."

Alfred was like a stuck door, too hesitant to open up all the way at first, sometimes needing a careful push from Orla's hands or words. But his posture soon relaxed as they sat near each other, delving back to the past. Alfred had been a very happy, hopeful child. Many Sartan children once were.

"Did Arianus not have rainstorms?" Orla had asked. She could not recall whether that had been Samah's intention- he had started keeping many things from her during those last days.

"They did, just… not often, at least besides the Low Realms. Sometimes, we needed to summon them to help the plant life, when we once could." Just a small, somber pause, before his words suddenly brightened. "But there was this one time when a natural storm did happen, and in the High Realms no less."

Orla kept a careful observation on the colors moving forth. "You have never been in such a storm before."

"It was much stronger than what I had ever seen. Lya said it was like those on Drevlin, and she had to pull me outside to see it."

Orla smiled. He had really been such a happy child. His words painted for her large fields, trees of crystal sparkling in the distance. The buildings of the Sartan were far off as well, leaving only two young people by themselves, standing underneath a roiling sky. It was a small blessing that she could still understand the workings of the magic and witness their multilayered meanings, despite being stripped of her own. She carefully placed her fingers over his, and was a little relieved that Alfred, still deep in nostalgia, didn't notice.

"I've never seen a storm like that again in any of the higher realms. I remember being a little afraid that lightning would strike down if I wasn't careful. Lya had not at all been worried."

If she thought hard enough, she supposed she could recall storms too. Perhaps the kind that felt like an ocean was pouring down, the kind that Samah disliked for it muddied the ground and threatened to dirty his white robes if he weren't careful. "How long were you two out there?" she asked.

"Not for very long. At the very least, a half an hour or so."

Orla blinked. "What were you both doing to make you stay for such a time?"

At that moment, Alfred paled. Though he didn't speak at first, his magic betrayed him, showing blurred images, soaked by the rainwater. He quickly dissolved it away, but Orla was perceptive enough to know.

Of course, all Sartan children lose their innocence eventually. But in a rainstorm?

"I was… I mean, we were just…" Alfred eventually stuttered into silence, realizing that his repeated protests was only reigniting the images. His face so red, he finally muttered, "I'm so terribly sorry."

His clumsy handling of the magic language was testament to how long he had been alone. He fluttered over them, trying to grasp it well enough, so much that it was hard to believe he was the same young Sartan boy she had seen in those memories. She assumed that boy would have had to hide away what he and the girl did together in that storm, both of them whispering quick words to dry their robes, to dispense away the grass from their hair. Sartan could not lie, but evasion was not exactly a dishonesty. Perhaps he had been better at hiding away the truth back then.

She was reminded of the image he had shown her once as she wept in his arms, of a fierce passion between two people, of time that was not to be wasted.

All she had ever known was duty, routine.

"Orla?" she heard across the emptiness, easily sweeping past the dusted furniture inside her being. He was worried.  _He thinks I took offense to what I saw._  "Orla, I really never meant-"

She grasped his hand tightly, feeling him draw back- only in surprise. She shifted to him closer. "Alfred, you are very brave."

With Samah, there was an appointed day, an appointed hour. What would be the best time for her to conceive his son? When would it be opportune for her to carry on the generation? When she had been young, she was grateful for the order and stability he provided. It was soothing compared to the chaos of everything else.

It had not at all been predetermined for her to move close to Alfred, to kiss him as if she were an adolescent girl, unsure of the expected movements. She guessed her way, trying not to freeze on her lack of guidance. But in her desperation, she had moved too quickly for Alfred to fully grasp the circumstances. He nearly fell on his back, just able to lean his body against the wall, to move his legs comfortably enough for Orla to fully settle.

"What… I…" His hands, wrinkled and rawboned, felt good against her.

"I love you," she told him. She could not show him images anymore, another possibility denied to her, but she tried to express with what she had left- her eyes, her mouth, speaking of both fierceness and rain.

She could see Alfred wanted to question this, wanting to be sure that he had not seen or heard her incorrectly. He swallowed, nervousness plaguing him, his eyes looking a bit aghast at how his hands slid across her back. "Are you sure about…?"

She nodded, because she was afraid that if she spoke, tears might fall. Thrill seeped through her as she guided his hand to the opening of her robe, as she pressed against him. Alfred struggled with his own failings, almost tangling up her clothes too much to be removed. But she was determined, and he was convinced by her. Eventually, she was bare, her own hands soon working out the clasps and buttons of his pants. Partly out of the ache inside her, partly to keep away the awareness of her own figure.  _I had only ever undressed in the dark._

When she had taken her vows, she had agreed that her being belonged to her husband, as his belonged to her. Though on the first night, the room had seemed to be made of pitch. She had only heard the rustling of his clothes, only saw the shadowy gesture of his hand for her to disrobe before he entered her. She had laid hands on him, though just on his shoulders, sometimes even his neck, only lightly pressed. When wrinkles appeared on her cheeks, when stretch marks decorated her waist, the dark hid them away as if they'd never been.

Her touch stuttered when she grasped Alfred's cock, knowing she shouldn't have been surprised by the softness. She felt him move, heard him gasp. Finger trailed against her thighs.  _My marks,_  she thought, suddenly a little ashamed.

"Orla, you look… very beautiful."

The Vortex was bright, highlighting each detail. Alfred had only ever been sincere to her. He noted the dark lines, tracing them with care.

Suddenly, she realized the force she had shown, the position that he was in. She let him go. "I am so sorry. I do not want to make you do this if you would rather-"

"Oh no, no!" Alfred said quickly, trying to catch his breath. "I really, truly don't mind, just, um…" He sat up a little more, took one look between his legs and flushed. "I would… at least need to be out of my clothes for this. I don't think I could… perform as well if I were…"

She was close to weeping then, but only out of a sudden joy. Seeing his look of helplessness, of her desire to ease that away, made her embrace him. "I do love you, Alfred."

Though flustered at the fact that her breasts had been practically on him, he whispered back, "I love you, too."

Her motions were tempered then, moving slowly instead of with fervency. It was just as well, for Alfred's court clothes were more complicated to remove, complete with his vest, his shirt, his neckerchief, and his pants. He apologized to her each time they hit an obstacle, all the while his erection, out from her previous efforts, sometimes brushing against her hand which only made him apologize even more. It made her laugh, stretched out her smile, and even Alfred had to laugh too. By the end he still had on his shirt, though it was unbuttoned, threatening to slip down his shoulders.

The ache inside her grew more pronounced, and soon both quieted, giving each other small kisses, fingers moving against skin. His own circled around the inside of her thighs, having her shudder. "Please tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable," he said. But no, she did not say a word against any of his actions- she said little words at all. Just soft sounds against his touch, which in turn made her reach out to him, her hand slowly traveling up and down. Words were hard to grasp for both, both resorting to kissing each other fully, giving themselves to the feeling.

With Samah, she did not always have words either, at least none that led the way to another disagreement. But only because his detachment instantly stole that away. Such an expression had continually been present, outside the walls of their home to behind the closed bedroom doors. She would be led by his hand because she knew it was her own duty as well to provide a child, to support him, to keep him warm and comforted. She did not know then if it could be any other way.

Orla kissed Alfred deeply, her body sprawled over his, his arms keeping her steady. The sensation of lips moving over her own was new and exciting, when before all she had was dryness that would occasionally peck over her own. Her bravery prompted her tongue to find his, and the sound he made -a slight moan- was enough to make her keep going. Her legs shifted, their hips met. She could not believe that a kiss could make her comprehension fade like this, substituting it for warm thrills running across her stomach.

Her hold was desperate. She pulsed against him, her eyes shut to the white environment they were trapped in.  _You can go with him, or remain among us._  If she had stayed, would that have been her only experience, dry and empty?

Alfred was gentle, exceedingly so at first. But the rush of her soft skin, the kiss that she refused to end convinced the usually so clumsy Sartan to hold her just as tightly. His mouth escaped long enough to dress her neck, one hand sliding up her chest to grasp. His touch brought more heat, and the ache she felt was different, eager.

Sartan did not do such things outside of bonds, with children to their name, but there were no other Sartan around to tell her so. She could be selfish now- they were already exiled. What else could be done to them?

"Orla…" Alfred whispered, bringing his mouth near her's again. She moved up, settling herself on him, already having him move within her with very little difficulty. She heard Alfred's breath catch, cherishing the sound, riding him so well that he barely needed to buck his hips hard enough.

It was not the deepness that made her cry out, but the mouth against her cheek- the mouth that moved down to her chest, kissing and then sucking hard. It was the repetition of her name, the tight grip on her arms, the wash of colors and music from his sounds. She knew there was so much more to his magic, perhaps more than he knew about, like wings that lifted above her.  _Here_  was substance she was moving against, a soul, a man whose true name she did not even know. But it was this man, whom she had seen faint to the floor on the first day, that she was wet for, that she called out for in turn. She guided him back to her face, kissing him as she came suddenly, her tongue against his lips, her silver hair clinging to her forehead with sweat.

She kept moving for him, despite her finish, hips grinding to take him in further, tighter. He sounded almost surprised when he came inside her, perhaps so unbelieving that he could still be able to do this at such an age.

 _At least here, we old, forgotten Sartan have the luxury to find out,_  she thought, settling beside him.

The cool of the marble floor was relieving against her skin. She nestled against him, feeling like her limbs would fall off from the previous strain. His hands were still on her waist, still tracing across her.

"Orla, are you alright?" he asked her, still catching his breath.

It was more than comfort- it was a need of his own. She hugged him close, unable to say much. If she had a bit of magic left, enough for her to trace a sigil simple enough to show just how grateful she was to him, how deeply afraid she was of falling back…

 _Your sentence, too, has been passed,_  Samah had told her.

"You are not cold, are you, Alfred?" she finally asked him, speaking into his neck.

His hands shifted her closer to him. "Not at all."

"Then it is okay if we stay like this for now?" And she knew Alfred, like her, would want that more than anything.

If there was a force out there, the one that had nearly made her husband weep, that Alfred claimed to have felt, why did it bring her forth at a much earlier age, away from the boy in the rain? She imagined a bed that would have been much softer with his presence, imagined the right to innocence instead of tiring Council talks and cold arguments. She even felt jealousy at the girl that had been with him, though perhaps she had always been a selfish person to think such thoughts. But there was now and more after- no one would come for them, and that included danger.

Why did she feel a threat then?

_Despite it all, I am still a man's wife. Samah's wife._

In the Vortex, she and Alfred had nothing but time. This could not be the only night they had, but she still she held onto him fiercely, trading away the brief coldness she felt in her stomach for his mouth. He returned it with his own eagerness, and she hoped that both of the extent of their loneliness was enough to feel whole.

* * *

"Husband, I don't believe I can do this now. I am tired."

Samah frowned at her. Orla could not see it in the dark, but she could hear it in his tone. "The possibilities for a child are high this night. And tomorrow, there will be little time due to Council meetings."

"I understand that, I do." Orla had gone to the porch of their bedroom, slowly going near the rail, trying to latch her attention onto something else in the distance. "But my mind is too filled with past troubles."

"Is my comfort not enough, Wife?"

"It is always. But I believe I just need some fresh air, and maybe sleep to help. Please forgive me. There are many more nights ahead for us."

Samah said nothing for a long while. She did not want to admit that it chilled her, that she had looked across the rail, hoping to find another Sartan passing by within calling distance.

Then she saw him bow to her. "If that is what you want, Wife." He turned to their bed, easily slipping under the covers, his robe already having been off.

 _It's only been a year,_  she told herself, turning back to the outside. The sky was dark, the stars innumerable above her.  _Mother said it is natural to be apprehensive._

But was it natural after so many days? She could not understand it. Samah had not hurt her. He had never even spoken a harsh word to her. He had been a respectful, dutiful husband- a man who shared with her his upcoming designs to help the Sartan against their enemies, to help them care for the mensch. The consummation night had not at all been traumatizing.

But after, she had felt very cold, her skin aligned with goose bumps. Even as she had laid in their bed for hours, listening to her husband's breathing, the darkness had not adjusted, leaving her weightless beneath the blackness.

_What more could I have expected? When did I ever become so selfish?_

But she had no answer to that. She just continued looking up at the sky, folding her arms across her body to still her shivering.


	4. The Concept of Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Haplo/Alfred/Marit
> 
> Themes: PWP, very explicit, oral sex, some themes of voyeurism. Fun stuff! Well, for me. :[
> 
> Summary: Post-canon. Alfred always makes sure to never ask for too much. But his friends feel like offering anyway.

Alfred was never one for attention. Even as a younger man, living among his own, he disliked drawing eyes to himself. His betters did not need his lacking experience, or his doubts about the grand plan. His years of hiding among the mensch, of trying to blend in and be forgettable, to be more worthless than before, had not helped him in changing such a mindset.

So he was fine with just watching Haplo and Marit- he really was, ever since they had all taken this step together. He was thrilled at their love, touched that they could share this with him. But his friends wanted him to be inclusive. "You know it will be much more enjoyable for you, right?" Haplo had told him.

To join would mar the picture, would corrupt it. He didn't want to risk that. "I'm fine with this," he would reply, content.

Besides, just watching them was enough to make him feel involved. The Sartan had been nervous at first- such things were not to be shown, or at least that was what he had been taught. But his friends had a knack for making him comfortable, until he found himself moving along with them- never reaching out to them for a touch, but getting to the end all the same as Marit would moan out her climax, or as Haplo would slow down his thrusts.

That was what he had expected this time, as it had all the other nights. But then Haplo, just when it seemed he would come, had instead moved toward him, his heated palm taking over Alfred's, smiling his quiet smile as he gripped the Sartan's cock tightly. And Marit followed as well, placing a soft kiss over the hard flesh.

"I-" Alfred started to protest. The heat magnified, and it was difficult to find his breath. Haplo had always been resourceful, and so took that to his advantage.

"Let's just try this," he said, before moving down next to Marit.

It was an unhealthy way of thinking, he knew that. But he had always thought it was best, not just for him but for everybody, to stay off in a corner, making sure not to disturb a rock from its place. Unintended harm was harm all the same. Because he had tried to help before, only to have the results break apart in his hands.  _But what about the dragon?_  Haplo would remind him.  _What about the dead man you freed?_

 _But those were things I couldn't even remember,_  Alfred would say, for what use were spells that were already forgotten by the caster? Until there had been Abri, until there had been a hand reaching out to him, and arms to carry him away to safety.

They really didn't need to do this for him, and he tried to tell them so. "I just…" But his words refused to go, overtaken as they were by his quickened breath. Haplo's mouth slowly engulfed the head of his cock, starting their travel up and down. That was more than enough, surely it was, but Marit's own tongue slid up the side, licking away the pre-cum like water.

Because of that, Alfred couldn't stop himself from moving, from bucking his hips up, suddenly in need of the heat. He felt Haplo's mouth let go, heard Marit say, "Good," in satisfaction, before feeling his cock become swallowed again. And it alternated, both Patryns dressing his cock in slickness with their tongues, and then one sucking on it hard and fast. He had watched, and he had felt guilty doing so, but he had all the same, and he could almost say with certainty that they appeared to enjoy doing this for him.

"But I can't," he said aloud, just barely restraining from moving his hips again. "I only really want…" He stopped, knowing he didn't make sense, trying to ruin things as usual.

His friends had stopped at his words, and the absence of their mouths almost made him regret it. But Marit had smiled too, different from Haplo's, and much rarer. "You mean you want it to be just us?"

He sensed that she was twisting his meaning somehow, but he couldn't find the flaw, and simply nodded.

Both Haplo and Marit turned to each other, and leaned in for a deep kiss. It was one they would give to each other in the culmination of their climax, moaning into each other as Haplo would push in his final, hard thrusts. It would always be full of wetness and complete abandon, just as it was now. The only difference now was that Alfred's cock was right in between their mouths, vulnerable to the onslaught of slickness, of sound.

_I don't deserve this._

He could barely comprehend what they had decided, but his breath caught in his throat, and his body shook from the sensation. He could feel every detail, no longer just restricted to watching from his place by the wall, determined not to damage the sights in front of him with his presence. Lips pressed hard against his flesh, tongues moved around, trying to reach the other's until everything was as smooth as possible. At moments, their lips would meet, slightly, moaning as if unaware of the obstacle before them. Then Haplo reached out a hand toward Marit's head, pushing her in more until the top of Alfred's cock was immersed in both their mouths completely, hidden away in hot darkness.

 _I really don't,_  he kept thinking, his moans moving a pitch louder, spells and chants mixed in, barely audible.  _It should be just you two. I shouldn't intrude._

 _Coren,_  he heard, the voice that had once reached their hand to him across a chasm. _You know that you're as much a part of us as we are with each other._

And he was happy for that, greedy for it almost. Even though there was this nagging doubt inside him, reminding him time and again that he should stay away, that the fragile was in danger of his presence. But the mouths comforted him, and he couldn't help but place his hands atop their heads, not pushing or pulling them away, but wanting to feel the warmth of his dearest friends through his fingers.

His hips moved again, angling them apart until the Patryns closed in on his cock in response, licking the head in desperate swipes, moaning out the other's name. The cycle kept repeating, bringing with it a new experience, a slight difference in the details, such as Marit's teeth just barely pressing against the skin, or the change of pace in Haplo's breathing. All of it felt and remembered, all of it given to him in such wonderful generosity.

He made sounds, trying to tell them before he would come. But they were still so immersed in each other, barely a break in their movement when Alfred shook. White spilled inside their mouths, tongues and lips moving it around, swallowing it down. Some of it had escaped, dripping down their chests. Somehow, seeing them marked in his, willing and unashamed, was almost enough to make him hard again. But the change in tonight's routine had left him much too exhausted.

Alfred laid back for he didn't know how long, trying to catch what little of his breath was left. Haplo and Marit was barely in the corner of his vision, both sporting looks of accomplishment.

"Did I not say you'd enjoy it?" Haplo said, smiling.


	5. Would They Call This a Monstrosity?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Haplo/Alfred
> 
> Themes: Xeno aspects (I think that's the term), not explicit or detailed, but heavily implied. Also very short. If you're wondering how it would work, well, I have no answers.
> 
> Summary: Post-canon. Each Run through the Labyrinth brings them less fear, molding one more link in their bond. Certainly there was no harm in forming another, right here.

The chill wind felt purposeful, a set-up to gradually wear him down. Each gust brought Haplo more shudders, prompting him to shift closer to the hastily-made fire.

"We've been out here too long," Alfred spoke from behind him. Fretting as usual.

"Fly me back then," Haplo told him, turning to him with a grin. "If you're up to it."

The firelight made the dragon's eyes shine, brighter than usual, warmer than anything- at least in this environment. Wings creaked in a stretch, but that was all. "You wore me out too much."

_Liar,_ Haplo thought, laughing soon after. The sound was loud, echoing off the close-knit trees around them. A dangerous thing he did, but it had been hours, and the worst of the monsters were gone. He had already seen a few skulk away from the sight of them both, perhaps drawn by the sounds. They must have thought they had seen a dragon with his prey.

When he stood up, the wind strengthened in response, buffeting against his bareness. The runes shone on his chest, bright red and blue lines carving down his body into equal parts.

A wing engulfed him in shadow, the leather pressing against his backside. It brought him away from the fire to those eyes.

"It's unlike you to be risky like this, Sartan."

The dragon-shape didn't matter- the courage would have been there, whether as man or beast. Although, it  _did_  make a bit of a difference feeling scales instead of skin, and the claw marks were still a little fresh on his side. Just before, this winged creature, the same that had torn apart a wyvern in mid-flight, had been apologizing to him profusely about the scratches. He couldn't even say that had been the most ludicrous thing to happen tonight.

Haplo placed his hand against Alfred's draconic head, one that was as large as his entire body. His fingertips traced against the invisible threads, the veins of magic forming the shape, the armor of claws and fangs. The brief exchange of images he then shared -of awkwardness turning into adaptability, of the entirely new sensation of different textures, of different levels of tension- was enough to have Alfred pressing to him in turn, to have both of his wings curl around them both.

Well, the Sartan had always been more comfortable performing magic than anything else. And what was the dragon but an ongoing spell?

"Just so you know, this was not my idea in the first place," Alfred said somewhat huffily.

Haplo almost felt guilty. To be fair, all he had done was merely throw out suggestions, even if they had been a bit heavy.

"I can take the blame if you want," Haplo said, feeling the Sartan's sinewy tail slide against his leg, sending off a sudden thrill.

At that, the dragon smiled, which to anyone else would have looked like a mix between giddiness and hunger. It wouldn't have been far from the truth anyway.

"No," Alfred told him. The claws carefully, at least for now, pushed Haplo against the ground, to the grass that was already flattened out well from before. "We always take equal share."

The wind was roaring.


	6. Reaching a Compromise (Remix of Fornication)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Haplo/Alfred
> 
> Themes: Dub-con, sex pollen, and an assertive Alfred because that's fun.
> 
> Summary: At the end of Fire Sea. Traveling through Death's Gate has its consequences, and it doesn't stop at dreams - much to Haplo's annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, please read this story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4293098/1/Fornication
> 
> The following chapter is a remix of Fornication by Doreiku, because it is a very neat and awesome idea, and I decided to expand on certain things for fun in my own style. Hopefully that's okay? All credit goes to the original story (which you should read please!), still I hope this one stands out on its own. So far the longest story in this collection, so grab a muffin.

He was having dreams again.

Haplo awoke with a start, gasping and drowning in heat. Even when his eyes latched onto the woodwork of his ship, on the cables crossing along the sides, slightly whipping against each other from the movement, the woman stayed with him. His hands still recalled the softness, tracing the patterns of her magic etched in ink, still riding high on the adrenaline of needing to be fast. But she and him had agreed, had  _needed_ to reach the end in fullness all the same before a dragon's call interrupted their privacy.

He was actually losing his breath.

At the very least, they were of his own memories instead of another. Haplo could be thankful for that, if not for anything else that had happened on this venture. But Abarrach was behind him now, along with the fire and the dead. They were things that thrived in the darkness and the smoke, and he preferred them to be far, far away from him. If only he could have gained something more valuable to make into his report, or had a chance to toss the annoying Alfred into the lazar's hands…

It was… difficult to concentrate.

Haplo struggled to sit up, then leaned against the wall of the ship. The healing sleep, though strained from his excursion through Death's Gate once more, had did enough to mend the wound on his head. Still, there was certainly a lot of heat. His legs were shaking too, and he didn't trust himself enough to stand up at the moment.

Haplo thought, then sighed harshly. Not  _this._ Not  _now._

The last time Haplo had been like this was with the woman in that Squatter village, suddenly desperate to bring her into a hut, to feel her breasts in his hands and move deep inside her. She had urged him to hold off, ("It would be rude to our hosts") and even though he cursed them, he knew she had been right and did all he could to not tear her away from the children of the village and carry her in his arms.

This was what he felt now, except he had no woman around this time to… help him.

This was not what he needed.

"I have things to prepare for," he said, comfortably moving back to his relapse of speaking out loud in his solitude. "I need to make sure the ship isn't too damaged, and that we're going back the right way. And I need to know what to do with that damn Sartan!"

He made a movement to get up. His hands shook, he breathed fast. Was it Death's Gate doing this? Bringing up those memories of his, leaving his mind back in the past? He would never consider satisfying such a primal thing at this point in time otherwise!

Although Abarrach had been one heavy failure after another. He deserved some reprieve, didn't he?  _Five minutes,_  his need asked, growling in the depths of his stomach, determined to set what it could into flame.  _Five minutes and it will be done._

Hell with it.

Unconsciously, his hands moved to unlace his trousers, already feeling his cock strain against it. It stood out hard and straight when he was done, the dark lines of his magic decorated here as well, matching the patterns of his hands. He gripped it tightly, did all he could to keep his breathing low and even.

He heard, dimly, the dog begin to whimper. It was an unwelcome intrusion, especially in such matters.  _Dog, just go!_  he told it silently. He hoped it wouldn't stay to sulk around, making the situation even more awkward. Because the moment he started, he had no more innate reason to stop. Five minutes, and then he could get back to the rest of his life. He hoped the animal would busy itself in the storage hold, where all the food was kept. Then they could both be happy.

He heard the soft padding of feet on the floorboards, moving further away. Good. Finally something went right for him.

The moment he took her into the hut, she had been just as eager as he was. The sensation of sliding in deeper, harder, doing all they could to keep their voices as hushed as possible- it had been enough for him more than once that night, his mouth wrapped around her breast, feeling her legs clench so tightly around him. The village was only a few shades safer than out in the dark forests, so there was still that feeling of dread, that nagging caution in the back of their minds should a wolfen group attack their haven. And it somehow made it all the more richer, melting him from within. He pounded in her again and again, knowing that the next climax would be the one to finally satisfy…

Haplo heard a gasp. His hand stuttered on the rhythm, his instincts flared.

How he wished he had thrown him into that fire sea!

He looked up, seeing the Sartan stand in the doorway. The befuddled look on his face was the same as all the other times he had been forced to travel with him, as if it was the sole, natural expression for him.

Seeing Haplo stare right back at him, the man turned a bright shade of red in remarkable time, instantly turning away from the sight, as if that would somehow remedy the situation.

He apparently felt a need to break the tension, for Alfred cleared his throat, cracking on the first word. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Then leave!"

"I just-" Alfred actually turned back to him, wringing his hands near his chest. "It… sounded like you were in pain and I… just wanted to see if I could help…"

Haplo would have laughed, but his nerves were still on fire. If it came out as a moan instead, he wasn't sure he could get past that particular embarrassment.

"Just leave, Sartan. You were already doing that, weren't you?" The man was still out near the bridge, clearly remembering the warning the Patryn had given him before the unconsciousness kicked in. "This is as good a time as any."

Alfred's feet shuffled in and out, hesitant, just as confused as the person it was a part of. "You don't… look so well. Perhaps I can-"

Haplo lost his patience. "Are you kidding me? What do you think I'm doing?"

Alfred flushed even more, unable to give a response.

"Do you honestly want to know the one way you can help me? Fine, Sartan. You have a choice. You can either leave, or-"

His hand gripped his cock again, cutting off his words, saving him. What he had been about to suggest was unthinkable, but it had nearly come out of his mouth. Alfred's widened eyes showed him that the message had still been given quite clearly, even to him.

"Just- just leave!" Haplo shot out in finality. This was all he really needed, just this one thing. Must it be so difficult to get that as well? He was determined and so continued his hand's motion, closing his eyes, mindfully blocking out any outside distractions. And hell, if the Sartan wanted to stay and watch, then by all means. As long as he didn't disrupt him with his inane ramblings again.

It took a while to build it back, feeling the heat increase with each stroke, keeping his grip tight, keeping his memories of the woman fresh. He didn't hear anything around him anymore and so fully lost himself in the pleasure that he created, surrendering to the slick sounds. For a brief moment, he stopped his hand, poised on that soft, wet moment between the heat and the prospect of an end.

He was about to start up again until something sent fire-hot trails across his torso, his legs, his arms, starting from between his thighs. He hadn't come yet, still on that verge in-between the senses. Softness gathered around his cock, bringing the already intense memories of the women to a staggering degree. But it was different- speaking of a control that disturbed him.

Haplo opened his eyes, looking down to find Alfred, still here, still not taking the route to freedom despite his opportunity. He was on his knees before the Patryn, taking the man's cock in his mouth, and working it extremely well.

Haplo started to speak, and the moan he had feared from before now decided to come right out. It crackled against his teeth, echoed around the cabin of the ship. He was supposed to do this alone. Just him. Alone.

"What… what are you doing, Alfred?" he said, unconsciously slipping out the mensch name. He was frustrated to hear his voice come out in a whisper.

The most frustrating thing was how the Sartan wouldn't answer him right away, leaving him in silence to deal with the feeling of unbelievable warmth and the knowledge of where it came from. Alfred continued sucking hard, the feel of his tongue dressing along the shaft with disturbing expertise. A large hand covered the base of Haplo's cock, making up for the part that Alfred couldn't swallow, covering it completely in warmth. It sent Haplo's body into unbelievable shivers.

"I told you to go," he managed to get out, holding back other, more betraying sounds. What Alfred was doing was… was actually rather good. His mouth wrapped around his cock good and tight, covering it in wetness. It was even harder to keep his hips from moving in response.

Alfred took a long while before he would answer, slipping out the cock between his lips in agonizing slowness. Haplo thought he could feel a slight vibration- something like a hum, but his mind, submerged in pleasantness, couldn't figure out the source.

The Sartan looked straight at him, still on his hands and knees, sporting that ever-confused face once more. "You looked like you needed help."

Haplo couldn't understand him right away. He only felt the motion of his hands pressing against the floor, trying to lift him away. "I never asked that of you."

"You… suggested…"

"I wasn't being serious!" Haplo wanted nothing more than to slap the man's face, needing to knock some sense into him, needing him to suck his cock again. He was feeling sick. "Why would you even consider this?"

Then something about Alfred's face was very strange. His face was still flushed, but not from embarrassment or shame. It was a very familiar look, one that Haplo had seen when Alfred had woken up screaming from their first trip through Death's Gate.

"I had dreams also," Alfred whispered before bending down again.

The mouth swallowing his hardness, tasting the runes etched on that part, made him hiss through his teeth. It sucked harder, faster, made his hips reach up for more.

_No. Damn it. Why do you ruin everything?_

Denial wasn't much of an option. Alfred's mouth was too good to turn away. His hand gripped the other's shoulder, pulling him in more. He felt him mess up his rhythm, the faint hint of a gag making Haplo believe that maybe this would be when Alfred finally stopped this, all of this. But he stayed there before him, almost loyal in the pleasure he was giving, swallowing the cock until the head collided with the back of his throat.

It was too much. Haplo let out a strained moan, fingers digging into Alfred's shabby coat, unable to wrench his eyes away from watching his cock become swallowed, then almost released, to fully swallowed again. The wet sounds, along with what he was now sure was Alfred's own voice, moaning out something in-tune and melodic almost, completely engulfed him.

He was not used to this. The woman had been gone for too many years. She had left him in the aftermath of a battle, with monstrous corpses laid out on the ground, turning back to a village that was already destroyed. It was dangerous to be loud back in his old home. But the only other living thing in danger of hearing him was the dog, which he hoped adamantly was immersed deep in the food stores.

His throat unraveled even further, and he shook terribly. "Damn…" It needed to end. It needed to end now.

Alfred fully let go of his cock then, slightly wiping his mouth. "You shouldn't," he said.

Before Haplo could even question him, he felt hands wander under his shirt, which was now practically in shreds from his heinous travels through Abarrach. Fingers pressed against skin, heated, strangely electrifying. Haplo felt himself grow even harder somehow, but he had enough sense to try to surge some of his magic through the runes etched onto his chest. It would sting, possibly burn, a more than suitable warning to the Sartan to know his place.

Except it wasn't working. The patterns that had protected him from a snog's tusks, that he had inscribed himself, were suddenly ineffective. They glowed a slight red, emitting heat and nothing more. He panicked, reaching out to Alfred to stop him.

The Sartan grabbed his hand -both hands- and pinned them against the wall just above his head. His right palm stayed placed on Haplo's chest, just over the heart rune, at the origin of his entire being.

This couldn't be happening.

"Let me go, Sartan!"

"You don't need the magic to stop me."

The hell did he mean? His arms shook too much, and his cock was aching for that tightness again. "What did you do to me?"

"I honestly did nothing to you."

And Alfred did look nervous, almost unsure. The entire situation was truly ludicrous, but this mild-mannered man was pinning him with a rarely shown assertiveness. Maybe the images of finding his people dealing death to one another had left its mark.

Haplo took a moment to will his heart to beat steady, just barely succeeding. He was exhausted. He supposed it made sense that the magic would be harder to summon at his state. "What do you want?"

"I know you're not done yet, and… not… not me either." He looked down, quickly losing any of the aggressiveness he had. "Death's Gate made us have dreams again. And I dreamed about someone I loved, someone I now lost. You did too, didn't you?"

Haplo made no answer, trying to control his breathing, to survive in this heat.

"I guess my body's just… acting on it's own again. But if you really don't want this, then I won't force you. I think I can control myself that much."

At that, Alfred finally released Haplo's hands, though he kept his own on the other's chest. If given a moment more, or two, Alfred would have stumbled away, probably to throw himself over the rail.

Haplo stared, then laughed- just a short sound, still out of breath. "Really now?"

He reached out both hands to Alfred then, unbuttoning the other's pants quickly, gripping the hardness he knew was there.

"Because I can't," he said, speaking truthfully, pressing the cock against his own.

"Wait, I…" Alfred shook, nearly falling over Haplo as the hand squeezed them both together, resuming the rhythm that his mouth had set before. His breath quickened, pressing his forehead against Haplo's shoulder.

"You didn't listen to me," Haplo accused, tightening his grip. "I told you to leave before I woke up."

"But…" Alfred stuttered out, his hips moving along with the pace. "You wanted-"

"Be quiet." His thumb ran across softness, wetness coating his fingers. "If you want to fuck me, then hurry up."

Of course, Alfred was staying in his hesitance, only slightly letting out moans. But his cock was just as hard as the Patryn's, bare against the twisting designs. He breathed hard against Haplo's shoulder, slowly lowering his mouth to Haplo's chest, bare now that the shreds of his shirt had mostly fallen away. His tongue flicked out over the skin, following the patterns and details. Very familiar- too familiar.

The mouth was just as hot on his chest as it had been on his cock. He rested his head back against the wall, thrusting up his body. Teeth gently bit his nipple, followed by a wet swipe. He was puzzled on how the Sartan could apparently do this. How could he make him shiver so much? Even the fingers, now caressing his stomach, felt all too skilled, as if belonging to someone else entirely.

"Haplo…" Alfred gasped out, breathing hard against him. "It's… too fast…"

Haplo tightened his hand. "I'm not waiting around." Perhaps he should've been adverse to the idea of the Sartan coming with him, but if that's what it took to get him his satisfaction, he really didn't care. "And if you want to help me-"

Alfred lifted himself up, his knees laying over Haplo's legs, restricting him. His face stayed pressed over his chest.

"I… I'm sorry but… I need to be selfish too," the Sartan said. His hands moved to Haplo's pants, fingers curling around the waistband.

Haplo rejected the thought crashing into his head- no, the man couldn't have been serious about it, of course not- until he felt his pants being pulled down, his own legs being lifted.

"Stop!" He released his hand, trying to pull away. But Alfred was regaining his assertiveness, keeping the Patryn on the floor while he undressed him. "What are you even trying to do?"

Alfred took a moment. "Um… helping?"

"If this is your idea of-" But Alfred pressed his hand against Haplo's shoulder, keeping him down. He felt the bareness of his legs against Alfred's clothes. With his opened vest and shredded shirt, he was vulnerable, even more so with his runes which refused to act on his defense.

"At least look at me, Sartan!"

The man kept his head lowered, his voice coming out slightly muffled. "My name is… Alfred."

Haplo frowned, but held back the curse poised on his tongue. "Fine, Alfred. Is your body 'acting' on its own again?"

"It might be."

A hand glided down his back, reaching across curves, making the Patryn shudder. It wasn't entirely unwelcome. His cock, hard as ever, twitched against Alfred's shirt.

"Are you doing this because you have no control now?" Haplo accused, waiting for the hand to falter.

"I.." It didn't, continuing downwards. "I don't really know."

The fingers made their way inside him, but not without some difficulty. Haplo stiffened, feeling his body try to push it away. "You're not… hey!"

No answer, no sign of stopping. Was the Sartan ignoring him? The fingers kept pressing in, determined to prepare, but it was moving around awkwardly. It brought more pain and discomfort than any actual pleasure. Haplo tried once more to move, despite his sore limbs. It did little to help.

He heard Alfred whisper- a chant? A spell? The man had a habit of invoking his magic at the strangest of times, and he wasn't sure what he meant to subconsciously do. Nothing good, no. Not if he was already failing at this. Growling, he grabbed the collar of his shirt, his runes lighting a bright red.

" _Look at me!"_

Alfred blinked, breaking out of his trance, silencing his voice. He lifted his head.

"What's-"

"Shut up. If you're going to help _,_  then you're not going to ignore me while you're at it. And you're certainly going to have to actually do it right!"

"Oh…" Alfred flushed, tried to look down, but Haplo's hand on his collar kept him up. "What am I… doing wrong?"

"This, for one thing." Haplo clenched against the fingers still tucked inside him. "A warning would have been nice."

"R-right… I was caught up in… I know that's no excuse."

"No, it's not. Not what I expected from you, Alfred."  _Among other things._

"Then I'll be sure to ask."

Hearing the Sartan's serious tone, both apologetic and melancholy, Haplo couldn't help but smirk. "Well, that's comforting."

"So… if it's alright with you…"

Haplo prepared to deny whatever the Sartan was going to ask. If the man couldn't control his hands well enough, he might as well as go back to working his mouth.

"Can I kiss you?"

Haplo stared. "What?"

"I asked if I could-"

"I heard what you said." Haplo frowned. "I'm not like you."

Alfred looked embarrassed by his request  _(he should be!)_. It brought disturbing thoughts, aching in Haplo's stomach. Consideration was one thing, as long as one didn't take the action. There would be much to answer for, and much more to complicate if he accepted. The Sartan knew that.

"Fine," Haplo said instead.

He decided to wait this time, and of course Alfred would move things slowly. Permission should speed things up, as Haplo would think common sense would dictate. He stayed where he was though, until Alfred finally got the courage to lean down. From the closeness, he could the pale blue of his eyes. It was not a feature he had forgotten, taking it with him since his departure from the World of Air, recalling it as he traveled through Pryan's skies. Looking back on it, it was strange that he had thought of such a feature.

The mouth connected with his, chaste and hesitant. The lips were clumsy against his own, searching for the best way to go about the affair. If the Sartan continued to be this nervous, he might as well end this right now. His hand stayed gripped on his collar, preparing to throw the man off of him, until the tongue slipped in.

It was a small gesture, just slightly passing the barrier beyond his teeth. It still made his chest tighten, somehow. The lips felt different too, softer, more in control. Skilled all the sudden, like when he was sucking his cock, kissing his chest.

Haplo gasped, pressing against Alfred's lips. Despite the stretching of his nerves, Alfred kept him on the precipice, his tongue promising him more, but only caressing his lower lip and little else.

A rune-covered hand slipped from the Sartan's collar to his neck, bringing him as near as he could. Teeth hit against each other in his desperation, and before Alfred could even respond, he bit against the other's lip. Metallic flavors washed his tongue.

Alfred's yelp was muffled, and it took all his effort to push away from the Patryn. His bottom lip oozed a thin trail of blood. "D- did I not-"

"Come back," Haplo whispered, bringing the Sartan down again.

The kiss was wet and hot. There was the bitter taste of blood, harshly playing against a sweetness in Alfred's mouth. The fingers inside of him hadn't left during all this, now trying again in their penetration. The kiss made it easier, better, smoother. He accepted the small thrusts now, reaching hidden nerves that made him groan. His back lifted in response.

"I'm sorry for before," Alfred was saying when his mouth was free, never moving too far away. "It's… been a while."

"I don't care," Haplo answered, feeling everything move in deeper, both the fingers and tongue. His legs spread wider, rubbing himself against Alfred's cock. How long would it take for him to come now? He wanted to, and yet he didn't.  _It was only to have been five minutes,_  he thought. But the Sartan's involvement had stretched it out to far longer, making him exhausted, bringing his ache to a near-burn. Instead of a desperation to finish, he wanted to draw it out, tighten the feeling enough. In other words, to make an even better use of the man on top of him.

He needed something else to keep it all going and Alfred, with his once-aggravating habit of reading his thoughts, said aloud, "Is it alright if I can…or if you need me to-"

The fingers slowly moved out, reluctant. "You don't need to ask me anymore."

"Are you sure?" Alfred was breathing hard against his mouth. He liked the sensation.

"Yeah."

They didn't bother with removing Alfred's clothes. His cock was already out, warm and slick, making it easier to take the place of his fingers. Haplo let the Sartan lift up his hips, let him move inside him as much as he could allow.  _I don't understand how he can be suddenly good at this again._

Haplo had never let any man take him like this; lying on his back as another would thrust deep inside him, stretching him with such a satisfying burn. Each motion sent him moaning, and he was oddly glad that Alfred's mouth was there to swallow it up. His back routinely hit against the floor, hips driving him through.

"I… Haplo, I think I need you on top."

He could really be aggravating at the worst times. The Patryn gasped as another shudder wracked through him, the cock driving in deeper. "Don't ruin this now."

Then Alfred's tone changed- slightly indignant. "I'm not. This would… make it easier for both of us."

The man was a liar, despite his denials. So he ignored him and wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him in more. A gasp from Alfred mixed in with his own, the thrusts making his nerves contract. But even so, he felt a struggle, with Alfred trying to lean back up again.

"Haplo-"

"Sartan, you're already fucking me. What more do you want?"

Alfred's eyes were very close. The blue, usually so mild and frail, now sharpened.

Haplo felt his world leave him. Arms clasped around his back, lifting him away. The cock slid out halfway, careful to not leave completely as the Sartan forced them to change positions.

"The hell is this?!" he said, or meant to say. But his breath was hard to grasp, especially during the movement. Soon he found himself straddling the other, knees hitting the floor. Large hands poised around his waist, gently easing him down, fitting him in place.

Alfred was looking up at him, smiling sheepishly. "You said I didn't need to ask you anymore."

Hips drove him up. He clung onto Alfred's wrists, feeling his chest whither from the inside. Alfred reached even deeper, connecting with a sensation that almost made him whimper.  _No, I can't do that. I won't._  The thought didn't make it any less difficult.

His eyes were half-open, watching the Sartan -with his face flushed and his lips parted slightly- lying beneath him. The glow of his runes had faded from the smoldering red to a more tranquil blue, dressing the deck of his ship, and highlighting the folds in Alfred's shirt. It was a faint illumination, already getting dimmer, but from up high, it was much easier for Haplo to notice this, to see how his body rode Alfred's cock much too well, on how naked and exposed he was.

"And this is… better for you?" Haplo asked him, trying to steady his voice.

The cock drove in harder, faster, nearly making him double over. Moans slipped away from him before he could tie them down.

"It's better for you too."

A self-assured, confident Alfred was almost hard to imagine. But that was what he heard in the voice, complimenting those steady hands that kept him level. The thrusts didn't stop, hitting him straight through, making him take deep, heavy breaths. He wasn't really sure how much more he could take before he became completely undone.

"Isn't it?" Alfred asked, smiling still, and it wasn't a shy or embarrassed smile either. It was sincere, happy, maybe even teasing- making Haplo imagine that Alfred wasn't always such an anxiety-ridden fool. He was enjoying this also, in ways that Haplo couldn't control or take back, and he was having trouble figuring out just why he would want to do that anyway.

 _The smile looks good on him,_  he thought. He hadn't seen such an expression on Alfred before. Just fearful proclamations, and sad eyes. This was a rare thing, very rare.

"Why should I admit that?" he finally answered, moving his hips along with Alfred's. His knees ached, pressing hard against the wooden floorboards. He clutched onto Alfred's hands tighter, feeling the already tenuous hold on his sounds slowly start to release. There was the old fear from before,  _it's dangerous to be loud,_ despite the privacy that they had here, floating in between the spaces of worlds and realities.

"You don't have to," said Alfred, running one hand up the Patryn's chest. Fingers traced the twisting rune patterns, as gentle as Haplo expected them to be. But the action felt more intimate, personal even- a tender gesture during something that should have just been a means to satisfaction.

A thumb ran across one particular pattern, the one etched over his heart. He let out his breath slowly in response, then bent down close to Alfred's face, his body laying against his chest.

"Is it alright for me to admit something then?" Alfred said through the mists in his head.

Haplo nodded, too preoccupied with breathing.

"I haven't really dreamed about her… like this in a very long time. I probably shouldn't have, if it makes me act this way."

"You act like dreams can be controlled." He understood though. He hadn't dreamed about the woman in such a long time either.

"But I'm glad for it still, because I miss her, and I was so close to forgetting. And… you being here, it helps."

There was little need to explain. Haplo could easily recall the young woman in her chamber, gone away to where a newly awakened Alfred could not ever find her again. From what he knew about the Sartan, they were orderly, more reserved than most. But did they boil down to the same thing then when it came to this, like with Marit,  _that was her name,_  desperate to hold and connect?

"What are you saying then, Sartan?" he asked, smiling his quiet smile. "That you love me?"

Perhaps he was foolish to expect Alfred to stutter and look away like his usual self. The man had slowly started to change throughout this, more relaxed, more at ease, although his smile had a nervous tinge to it. "I guess I don't know what I'm saying."

"I suspect you barely do anyway," Haplo answered before he took a kiss. A warm tongue ran across his, a mouth moving just as insistently. He was being fucked harder now, his chest filling with such electricity, sparked by the hand that traveled all over him. The Sartan's cock went as deep as it would go, and he couldn't be surprised at himself now, knowing that he wanted more.

Alfred whispered against his lips, and he tasted a hidden reserve in the syllables, a familiar magic that differed from painted runes and power. The melodic sound he thought he heard from before was here now, still a faint thing. It laced against his words. "You're very tight, Haplo. Just so much, and warm. You feel so wonderful against me…"

The words were enough to shatter his head.

"Fuck, Alfred, I really can't take this anymore." His lower body met with Alfred's hips, willfully impaling himself as much as he could. "Just more like that."

Hands cupped his backside, helping him speed up the friction, igniting white spots across the inside of his shut eyelids. He pressed his forehead against Alfred's, panting, unable to mentally hold onto anything else but the man beneath him.

"Haplo…" Alfred was whispering, over and over, as helpless as he was. He clenched around Alfred's cock, expecting a groan of pleasure, and wasn't disappointed. "Haplo… you feel… smoother…"

Haplo pictured the Sartan coming into him, imagined the sensation of his release spilling, running down his thighs, and it was such a traitorous thought to be having that he couldn't help but share it with Alfred. His moans helped translate the images, using the language of the demigods, bringing forth visions that did wonders better than a simple phrase. Alfred was moaning just as much then, louder, and he was relieved to hear it sounded just as pathetic and desperate as his own.

During the last few seconds, feeling the cock moving in him quickly, he tried to hold onto that moment before the fall. He felt his body wrack itself from his climax, his hips jerking upwards, come spilling against Alfred's clothes. And it must have said something about their connection when the Sartan didn't stray far behind at all for their end. He could blame it on other forces- on magic untamed, invading his head with another's thoughts. And he probably still would, even after Alfred expelled everything he had into his body, the warmth much more than comforting. But as it was right now, he was only aware of Alfred clutching him with his knees up, driving it in. His voice broke from the contact- debilitating on so many extremes- before it went still.

When the high subsided, he could only think up theories, possible routes of explanations, sources for why.  _Death's Gate is closed off, not completely, but clearly it's magic is unstable._  It would give reason as to why it chose to switch memories for him, as well as make his body react the way it did.  _It could've been just the Sartan's doing, tricking me._  Because what if this was just a byproduct of Alfred's forgetful habits, making up spells supposedly beyond his control? He had been whispering during the sex, small words and barely heard melodies, most likely making Haplo's body weak, downplaying the threat of his runes to nothing else but light and heat.  _I should've just thrown him off the ship when I had the chance._

Except the aftereffects of the poison had weakened him so much, a poison that Alfred had taken away through clasped hands and shared pain.  _I already saved him from the arrow_ , he reasoned.  _I no longer owe him anything._

When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find their positions switched again, with Alfred collapsed against his naked chest, pinning him to the hard floor. It startled his usually so observant, self-aware nature, more than before. Or it could just be a compliment of how well Alfred had been doing, which he could no longer really deny at this point.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Alfred asked him.

"Hurt  _me?"_ What was it with the man and his concerns? Didn't he ever get tired of worrying about others?

"Because I'm sorry if I-"

"Stop it. You can learn to be quiet for more than a few minutes."

"Oh."

Haplo laid his head back against the wall, ready to threaten the Sartan with his original plans of taking him back to the Nexus if he tried talking again. But Alfred actually listened, resting his head against the now dark runes. It was pleasant, actually.

No, Alfred hadn't hurt him, at least not counting the preparation which had not lasted long anyway. And Haplo had paid him back for that already. He reflexively licked his bottom lip, expecting the aftertaste of copper. He shouldn't have to feel guilty for that. It had been a reasonable exchange.

"Sorry," Haplo said grudgingly, "for biting you."

"What?" Alfred's voice was groggy, half-asleep. Haplo didn't bother repeating.

Little time passed before he heard a small whimper from the doorway. He raised his head, finding the dog standing, nose close to the floor. Haplo tried to find traits of sausage grease on its face, not wanting to dwell on the fact that the dog might have known just what had been happening. But he couldn't tell from the distance.

 _Is it alright to come in?_ spoke the eyes. A black, bushy tail wagged slightly.  _Are you done now?_

At the very least, the animal expected no explanation from its master. Feeling guilty to have driven it away, Haplo gestured it to come to him. The dog slowly made its way before lying near the two, curling up with the bundles of ropes and cables that were on the floor. Its usual spot of laying its head on Haplo's chest was taken by Alfred, and he wondered if the dog would be jealous.

 _Well, you made us take him in the first place,_  Haplo thought bitterly. He must have been tired out of his mind if he was really trying to deflect the blame on the animal. He needed sleep, and at least the experience with Death's Gate had passed. He could expect a dreamless rest, like he used to have.

"You should leave, Alfred," he said. "Before I wake up this time."

Just silence, until, "…Is that alright?"

Why did he have to make him think about it? His loyalties were already shattered enough as they were. "Yes, unless you'd like a trip back to the Nexus."

Alfred encircled his arms around Haplo's body, not so tightly. "Thank you."

 _Now I truly don't owe him anything more,_ he thought, shutting his eyes.

He would have to worry about explanations later. His lord would be able to peel away the lies he would be forced to tell, but in the meantime, he could continue blaming the dreams.

He went to sleep then, hoping he wouldn't have remember a young girl in her white robes, long dead and cold.


	7. I Can Be Taught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Haplo/Alfred/Marit
> 
> Themes: PWP, toys, oral sex - you know, the usual.
> 
> Summary: Post-canon. For the Patryns and their Sartan, they are always on the verge of discovering new things. Yet it's only natural to get nervous along the way...

"I can do this today," Alfred said, nodding so much that it seemed his neck would break from the movement. "No matter what, I do want to do this."

"Well, good then," Haplo whispered, taking hold of Alfred's chin.

"And- and even if I'm difficult, you shouldn't-," but his words were cut off by the kiss, engulfing the rest of his ramblings.

Haplo's mouth was distracting. When Alfred tried to edge in a word, it was blocked by the warm finesse, instantly making his knees weak. His hands hovered in the air, unsure at first, finally succeeding in placing them on the Patryn's chest. There was the heat of skin, the sensation of the electric pulses that coursed through the runes. Haplo gave him no space to breathe, trying to make Alfred focus on getting enough air, on not falling backwards from the force of it.

The distraction was for a reason. Even so, Alfred felt the other hands on his waist, fingers digging underneath the belt of his pants.

And despite everyone's agreement, on the amount of time spent on emotional preparation, and just how gentle those hands were, Alfred still couldn't help his panic. He flinched, edging forward, finally breaking free from Haplo's mouth. "M-maybe we should reconsider…"

Usually, seeing Alfred so fidgety and doubtful would've brought Haplo some pity… if he didn't know that his friend had proven to be capable of this. He looked back at Marit who was kneeling behind the Sartan. She shrugged, caressing his sides, her fingers still poised on the fabric.

"It's not that different from the usual," Haplo said. "We've already put this off for, what, five days now?"

"Are you really that afraid of me, Alfred?" Marit asked, teasing.

At the mere suggestion that he would fear a treasured friend of his, Alfred predictably stammered out an apology, outlining his excuses for his behavior. "It's… it's really not that at all! I'm terribly sorry if I implied it that way. It's just, perhaps I am not ready for this particular thing really."

Haplo smirked. Well, what he said wasn't a lie - not completely anyway. Last time, Alfred had been a little shaken up when Marit decided to be a bit more aggressive in her passion. Unlike Haplo who had long been used to that, the Sartan had to learn by experience, allowing Marit to straddle him and dictate his movements to keep up with her pace. It had still ended favorably for everybody either way, but Marit promised to check her actions a bit more on the next occasion.

"I suppose we could try this later… _again."_  If Alfred would try to make him feel guilty, then he could do the same.

And Alfred did, of course, going by his shame-faced blush, but still he agreed. "I think next time for certain-"

"Hold on a moment," Marit interrupted. "Did you already forgot what you said before?"

"What I said?" Alfred asked with a little quake in his voice.

Haplo grinned. This was just another reason why he loved her.

"You said you could do this, no matter what. Actually, weren't your exact words that even if you were being difficult, that we should still continue?"

Alfred tried to refute her claims, opening his mouth but not having much come out. He fiddled with his hands. "Well, if you're talking about accuracy… I didn't actually get to finish what I was saying…"

"Then I'm sure Haplo knew what you meant to say." She smiled, encircling her arms around the Sartan's back. He shivered a little, not at the touch of her bare breasts on him, which had been common enough during these trysts, but of the device she was wearing.

Haplo nodded. "It did sound like you were saying that. Or, I guess, moaning that into me before."

The poor Sartan, though no longer much of a fainter, looked ready to crawl under the blankets. But Haplo knew him and could easily feel the tremor that ran through his arm where he touched him. He could tell the difference; for the tremble between fear and excitement was very minute, and very telling.

"I… I suppose so," Alfred said, conceding. He held tighter onto Haplo's arms, grateful for the strength, for the tone of muscle streaked with curling blue, for the hands pressing him from behind. This, Haplo could also understand.

"I promise it'll be fine," he said, then pulled the Sartan forward until the man was laying on top of him.

It was better to just move on ahead. If he gave Alfred time to think and wonder at the situation even more, he might never have the courage again to try this, or be consumed by the usual Sartan 'moral dilemma' that had plagued him the very first time.

He kissed him hard and rough, his tongue taking claim. At the same time, he made sure that Alfred remained on his knees, for that was the only way that this would work. And maybe the Sartan was finally distracted enough, or had convinced himself to do this for all of them, for he didn't shift when Marit deftly removed down his pants. His limbs were compliant in letting her remove the last of his clothing, his mouth still fastened onto Haplo's, his moans moving a fraction louder.

Both Haplo and Marit had made sure that the phallus would be slick enough, coating it carefully in lubricant until it gleamed from their rune-lights on the walls. They had been selective of the size too, but after careful measure, Haplo was sure it would be just the right length. It would do good, and with the right pressure, it would hit against Marit pleasurably, and she would make sure it did just that.

So even when Alfred gasped a little in surprise, feeling Marit bend over him, Haplo held his face firm, keeping his eyes straight until he was sure that all the Sartan could see was him. "We won't hurt you," he whispered.

For a moment, the emotion was so pronounced in Alfred's face that he thought the man would weep. "I… I know-" And then he took in another breath sharply, pressing his forehead against Haplo's.

Marit stayed poised behind him, careful in every motion of hers, from her stance on the bed to the placement of her fingers on Alfred's sides. Despite her usual enthusiasm, she did know when to hold back. She only moved in slightly, fractions at a time. Haplo could hear the quickening of her breath, desperate to take it all in one thrust, but knowing the mutual satisfaction there would be in lengthening it out. Alfred's sound was a mix of a moan and a whimper, his hands clamping onto Haplo as his body adjusted to the object moving inside him.

Haplo kissed him again, taking in those sounds, feeling the slight shift forward that Alfred's body did, the dip of the bed's movements as Marit evened out her thrusts. "See? It's no different than before. She's already doing it better anyway."

He didn't expect Alfred to answer him, and just kissed him once more, swallowing the sounds that came from each thrust. His own cock hardened, straining against his pants in protest. But he was pleased he wasn't the only one, and let one of his hands reach between Alfred's legs, gripping the hardness there that was already smooth and wet. Alfred had to move his head away to breathe, barely able to take both stimulations.

Marit pressed in deeper, sliding her hands over Alfred's back up to his shoulders. "Are you already going to come?" she said playfully. "Wouldn't want it to end just yet though." She bent her head to his neck, one hand sliding underneath Alfred's chin, bringing him back.

"No," he answered her, a soft gasp tumbling out of him as she gave another thrust, deeper and longer. "I wouldn't."

Haplo watched in extreme satisfaction as Marit leaned around to kiss the Sartan, bringing his body nearer to hers, bent to her experienced touches. Her thrusts were more frequent, the well-lubricated phallus moving in so well, deep enough for her hips to connect with Alfred's backside.

She let his mouth go, pressing her lips against his ear. "I can do it harder if you want."

She didn't catch the way his mouth moved, but Haplo saw, hearing the whisper in his head. The Sartan knew he couldn't keep secrets. So Haplo nodded to Marit, and she pressed in further, quick, with just enough warning for Alfred to get his bearings.

He uttered a soft cry still, muffled against Haplo's shoulder, but it was an eager one, and his body could only move in time to the motions. The change in tone was a familiar one as well, tinged with desperation, and it made Haplo grip the Sartan's cock tighter, remembering the tightness, how the sensation had been nearly unbearable.

Both Haplo and Marit knew at which moment their friend would want it a little more rough; from another catch in his voice, from the way his fingers tightened around fabric. And if those small actions weren't plain enough, the magic would tell all. A barely uttered rune-chant, portraying an image that the poor Sartan would, in any other time, hide away in shame for, was all the Patryns really wanted. It only took a little patience, finding an opportunity, and Alfred could only trust himself in the magic, which they understood. It was then Marit interpreted the message he could barely hum out, and moved faster.

Alfred almost collapsed from it all. He dimly saved himself from falling over, only letting his head press into Haplo's chest, his hot mouth taking hold of the tattooed runes as best he could. His tongue darted out against flesh, making Haplo release a small gasp on his own.

It was good just watching the two people he cared for more than anything, fucking and silently begging, climbing together to the edge. Good, but it could be even better.

He started to move out from beneath Alfred, seeing the other blink at him confusion, though hazy-eyed from the ongoing pleasure. He placed his hands on Alfred's shoulders, brought him up slightly. "Don't worry, here," and Marit had already known his intentions, distracting the Sartan with another kiss, never breaking her rhythm.

Haplo got to his knees, letting himself watch the way their mouths clung to the other, the play of tongues, the fullness of such passion. He knew that most other men would feel jealousy, but how could he be jealous of this? Of the woman he loved being so gentle with this other part of his soul, this part that thrived in this other person for years without his knowledge?

He only brought the Sartan back to him because he wanted that moment to include him as well. He took his mouth, tasting the traces of both, the memory of both their images imprinted in his heart.

And though Marit kept her fast pace, pumping out all the air from him, Haplo wouldn't let Alfred turn away, though the Sartan wasn't really trying. He needed just as much as Haplo, using his mouth get rid of the moans that wouldn't stop, pushing into him as Marit fucked him harder. Every few thrusts or so, Alfred had to moan a little louder, his lips becoming clumsy and sloppy, and it made Haplo want to suck on his tongue and bite his lips, to surround the Sartan with every pleasure he could. It was too good to hear, and then he could no longer wait, and worked out the drawstrings on his pants to finally satisfy himself. Alfred's lips were so soft and warm. He wanted none of that going to waste.

"I need you so much right now, Coren," he breathed out. He knew it was manipulative of him to use that on the Sartan, poring over his true name like a lingering caress, pulling on it as tight as he could until the other could do nothing but give in. But he also knew that it was a name that Alfred loved hearing now, no longer a curse to be desperately forgotten in the dark, but something that he could share and feel worthy of its meaning. His hand grasped onto Haplo's waist, helping in pulling down the clothing until it was done with.

Haplo had thought the Sartan would take his time, with lips and tongue pressed lightly against his cock, outlining its shape before he took it whole. But he had underestimated Alfred's desperation, or maybe Marit was even better than he realized, because when Haplo knelt in front of him, his waist at even-level, Alfred took it all in one motion, swallowing, sucking, moving rapidly in a rhythm that almost finished Haplo then and there.

He had to lean over Alfred's head, he had to watch the mouth travel, marvel at how easily it unraveled him. Last time, he had barely been able to stand it as it were, and Alfred had gone slow before, tongue licking the underside, slowly releasing before engulfing again. Marit had been over him, her mouth moving over his chest, to his neck, then his mouth, just as slow and deliberate, and he wondered if there was a part of their hearts that they shared with each other, to be able to coordinate so well.

Now it was fast and hard, the feeling no less than before. There were soft, strong hands grasping his arms, bringing him forward. Mindful to not lean in too much for Alfred, he kissed Marit, her warm, sweet mouth just one essence he cherished as Alfred kept up his speed, as she kept up hers. This was the connection he wanted, with them all together and lost in colors, wanting the end, but wanting the journey that came with it even more.

Haplo encircled his hand around Marit's head, pushing her to him until their lips could barely separate. Still he managed to say, "Harder. He wants it harder now." It was both the soft swipe of Alfred's tongue that told him and the fingers pressing hard against his skin. She did so, and maybe it was too fast, because the edge was already there, moving past his feet.

Alfred came first- he had to, for he had sunk into the phallus, reaching a point that finally released him. Marit didn't take long after for Alfred's own willful impalement had pressed on her sweetly. She gasped her end into Haplo's mouth, her hand closing on Alfred's cock, letting his cum run through her fingers.

Though he moved slower, Alfred kept his lips on Haplo's cock, dragging his tongue on it, licking away salt. With shaking arms, he held in Haplo's waist, moving him in a wonderful repetition of throat-fucking. And though he wanted to know more, the Patryn finally joined them, releasing Marit's lips to watch all that he was gratefully swallowed and taken.

Dimly, he felt Alfred laying across his lap, with Marit kneeling over him, smiling. He couldn't remember when his body decided to stretch out across the bed, but it wasn't like he would complain about this.

Marit patted Alfred's shoulder, her quickened breath finally slowing down. "And you were worried."

Still, even after, he would protest. "I wasn't… not- not completely worried."

Haplo had to laugh then, and he embraced the Sartan who was already ready to fall asleep from the exertion. "You're a terrible liar, Coren," he teased. "But I guess we can forgive you."

The tired but grateful smile that Alfred gave him was more than enough. Yes, he supposed he could give the man a break next time.


End file.
